#my signature thing is to make people gift baskets with a lot of little cool things you’d never think to buy for yourself! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

calmlftv · 4 years

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girl, put your records on. - m.c.

description: you are the owner of a popular local bakery, and lately, life’s been a little bit hectic. thankfully, the cute record store owner next door seems to know the perfect solution!

word count: 2.5k

warnings: n/a!

w/n: here’s part 1 of my record store!michael au! this is probably the cutest thing i’ve ever written so i hope u enjoy it 🥺

taglist: @spicycal @castaway-cashton @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga @thesubtweeter @ashisonthefloor @ashtonsos @loveroflrh @bestyearssos @treatallwithkindness @bestyearslftv

****

The lock clicked as you tugged the door open, being sure to let it fall shut behind you and double checking the lock before you continued into your bakery, disabling the alarm while you made your way to the back, flicking on the light switches on your way.

It was around 3 a.m., your usual time to come in with your messy bun and leggings, the old and flour covered apron being pulled on over your jacket. Tying it around your waist, you walked over to the office, propping open the door and grabbing the thick binder of orders you had stashed on a shelf. It made a loud thud when you tossed it on a workspace, the shiny silver reflecting the bags under your eyes as you hovered over the papers, eyes scanning the details and photos you had printed for every order you have.

This bakery was your pride and joy; you started it while in high school, selling your baked goods to other students for a dollar a piece as you struggled to pay for your car and groceries for your family. It quickly became a second job as you perfected your recipes, locking them away in a dusty old trunk under your bed when you would leave for the day. While still in college you got your first lawn sign, planting it outside your home on the main street of your town, and you quickly made enough to buy a second building; it was set to be demolished but you refused to give up on it, keeping up with your studies and home business until you essentially paid for the building four times over.

Your opening day for your building was beautiful, some friends from school helping out between classes until it got its feet under itself. Customers from your high school start up came by, new faces jumped in line, and before you knew it, you found people waiting outside our doors at 6 a.m., waiting to be let inside to get their breakfast pastries or pick up their orders early on.

It was amazing. You were humbled, you were happy, you were keeping a roof over your own head and paying your hard working employees.

Along with this though, you were stressed.

Well, maybe more than stressed. “Overwhelmed” seemed like a better word to describe how you felt.

Business was booming, and you had more orders in the works than you had ever imagined having. Recently you had put together the binder you were going through, making it easy for your bakers and yourself to stay on top of the orders that kept pouring in every day. Along with that, you had bought and installed more space and fridges for your kitchen, and now you were coming in much too early to prepare display case items. You worked your tail off in the morning, so your workers didn’t have to; they had enough on their plates.

Getting your stress out in a healthy way was something your therapist always pushed you towards, so you finally took his advice. You mixed together the cookie dough for the day in the big stand mixers, you kneaded dough for your bread and doughnuts by hand, every ounce of muscle you put in shedding a layer of stress from your shoulders.

Evidently, your neighbors enjoyed your baking as much as you did, especially the sweet record store employees to your right. You dropped off extra goods when you could, but lately it’s been baskets, one dropped off right next to their cashier as soon as the doors were unlocked, and you were sure it was always a different variety of them every day; no matter the kind, you always made sure to attach a cute little note to each basket, thanking them for their work and reminding them of the discount they get at your store should they ever need their sweet tooth filled.

On this day in particular you snuck out the back door as usual and dropped off your basket of goodies, the cashier being someone you hadn’t seen the last few days. He was blonde and had a pair of black glasses on, a light blue denim jacket and black t-shirt adorning his chest as you quickly dropped everything off and made it back to your shop.

And somehow, within the few minutes you were gone, all hell had broken loose.

“Darling,” your head baker and assistant manager said, immediately pulling you aside to chat. “There’s been….some accidents.”

A sigh passed through your lips and you tugged up your hair into a ponytail, immediately jumping into fix-it mode. It took hours of your blood, sweat, and tears, but you finally settled in with a piping bag in your hand, very carefully fixing some of the accidents that had occurred. From the front entrance you would hear your bustling employees boxing and ringing up customers, the occasional bit of laughter filter through to your ears.

Everybody was happy. And that was all that mattered to you.

It was a much quieter time of the day when the bell dinged, your associates up front cheerily greeting the new customer while they cleaned up the display areas, a curious laugh escaping one of them as you set your piping bag down. Another hand cramp was taking over, and you needed a break.

“Hey, Cupcake?”

The familiar nickname from your front shop workers made you raise your head, meeting their eyes from the doorway that marked the end of the kitchen.

You smiled at the young high schooler - Tilly - standing in the doorway, her warm smile being your response. “There’s someone up front asking for you.”

You nodded and jumped up, happy to have a distraction from your sore hand. When you got closer to Tilly she dropped her volume considerably.

“He’s cute, Cupcake, you need to get his number.”

A chuckle escaped you as your cheeks turned pink, shaking your head at the well meaning associate and patting her shoulder.

You were expecting a gentleman, maybe someone returning the basket from your record store deliveries.

However, you weren’t expecting the cute man that came with it.

It was the cashier from that morning, a basket in his hand and a beanie now pulled snugly over his head as a blonde fringe was pushed to the side. You hadn’t noticed in your rush earlier but his eyes were gorgeous, the most stunning mix of greens and blues that you had ever seen; that, combined with his seemingly nervous shifting, you were melting before you even spoke.

“Hi,” you greeted, walking up to him with your signature warm smile. You had hair falling out of the ponytail, strands and baby hairs flying almost every which way as you did your best to tame them. “I’m Y/N, the owner of this little shop.”

The man smiled in return, showing his teeth as he held out a hand, which you in turn took. “Hey,” he greeted just as warmly. “I’m Michael, I own the record shop next door.”

“Oh, good to meet you, neighbor!” You said cheerily, knowing it was your own fault for not getting to know him sooner. Your eyes drifted to your basket, his pale and slender fingers seeming to drum a beat on the bits he was holding. “I see you got my gift this morning.”

Michael blushed, handing you the basket. “Yeah, we did,” he said kindly, letting you take it and place it on the front counter. Tilly almost immediately scooped it up, happy to bring it to the back and clean it - and gossip with the others about Michael, no doubt.

The gentleman cleared his throat. “Uh, we really appreciate you bringing things by,” he thanked. “But, um, I just wanted to...I um-”

He was flustered obviously, a pink tint on his cheeks as he met your eyes. “Sorry if this is awkward or an over-step, but I uh, I just notice that you bring us things when you’re really stressed, and we’re totally happy with it, but the baskets every day kind of...have me...worried.”

The fact that a complete stranger can tell when you’re stressed, and took notice of your habits, made you blush, your hands connecting in front of you. Michael was full on blushing now, his cheeks more red than the light pink that they were. He had reached back to rub a hand on the back of his neck, a couple of cloth bracelets sitting on his wrist.

“Um,” you stammered, also flustered but for different reasons. “You know...I have been kind of stressed lately.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up, surprised that he was right as you chuckled lightly. “Um, we’ve had a boat load of orders just slam into us. Lots of different things, too, and this morning when we were taking some cakes out to finish them, a couple of them got dinged up and we’ve been fixing them all morning.”

The way you were wringing your hands was probably more than enough evidence of your stress, the very thought of everything you had to complete filling you with a small amount of anxiety as you talked about it. However, Michael stood and nodded along, a reassuring look on his face as he leaned against a display case. He seemed like a great listener, something that made you smile.

“That does sound stressful,” he agreed, his hand shoving in his pocket while his other pulled out his phone. “I’m, uh, not sure it’ll help, but if you ever want to talk…” He turned his phone around a new contact information page pulled up as he sheepishly smiled. “Maybe we can go get coffee together and talk about it?”

You couldn’t hide the smile that tugged on your life, the nod following quickly after. “Yeah! Yeah, um, I’d love that,” you said, joy leaking into your tone as you took his phone and entered in your information.

“Great! Cool,” Michael said, watching you type in your personal and work phone numbers so he can reach you through both. When he took his phone back you were both beaming. “I’ll, uh, call or text you, then, and we can set a date? I know the owner of the shop just down the road, so we can definitely go there.”

You nodded, your beaming smile still on your face as you tucked some of the loose hair behind your ear. Michael matched your smile and thanked you for the goodies again, bumping into a couple of customers as they were entering because he was still looking at you.

While another associate helped those customers, you quickly ducked into the back, Tilly and everybody else surprising you at the doorway, making you laugh.

“Come on, everybody, my love life isn’t that exciting. Get back to work!”

Michael sat in his office, leaning back in his chair as he thought about the interaction he just had with the cutest woman he’s ever met. His phone was in his hands with a blank text on it, the girl's name in the recipient line as he tried to figure out what to say.

He wouldn’t ever say it was normal for him to be asking cute girls on dates like that; in fact, with most of his interactions with women, he was too nervous to make any sense, but somehow, that girl had given him a weird sense of confidence.

Ultimately, he kept it simple, letting her know he was excited about the date and asking what times would work for her. Immediately after it sent he opened his group chat with his boys, letting them know he had some news.

Immediately he had a response from Calum.

So...meeting tonight?

Michael affirmed the text and then quickly put it away, getting through the work day while he texted the baker girl next door. When he finally got to lock up he couldn’t get to Cal’s fast enough, knocking on the café door rhythmically and beaming when his best friend opened the door.

“Hey mate,” Cal greeted, letting him step inside before quickly pulling the door closed. Michael quickly went to their usual table, Duke lifting his head from his bed by the counter.

“So,” Cal said, moving to the counter to make Mikey some tea. “What’s this big news announcement?”

Michael chuckled and shook his head, watching from his seat at the table as Cal got to work. His friend groaned but respected the silence, the two warmly greeting Ashton and Luke as they showed up.

Once they were all seated with their usual drinks and food the conversation flowed, everybody talking about work and swapping stories of difficult and amazing customers. Eventually, Calum repeated his question, Duke now settled in his lap as the dog napped.

Michael chuckled and beamed. “Boys,” he said, watching them all focus on him. Luke leaned forward practically on the edge of his seat. “I have a real date. With a real girl.”

Immediately the other three cheered, all of them congratulating their friend.

“Who is it?” Ashton asked, grinning as he picked up his coffee.

“That cute bakery girl,” Mikey explained. “The one with the shop by my store.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Luke said, leaning back against his chair as he brought his heads up, lacing them and leaning his head back against them. “You’ve been talking about her forever, man.”

Michael reached over and shoved Luke’s shoulder, the blonde man grinning. “Fuck off,” he said, Luke sticking his tongue out before picking up his drink again. “I told her we could come here, to Cal’s, and she agreed. She’s free tomorrow so we’re gonna meet after she closes.”

The boys were all smiles, every single one of them ecstatic for their friend. The conversation continued to flow well into the evening after that, all of them reluctant to say their goodbyes.

However, Michael went home with his phone buzzing, you and him talking about anything and everything; it was the most comfortable he’s been with someone since meeting the boys, the two of you clicking in a way that he just wasn’t used to. It made him very eager to get to know you, and very happy when you seemed to show the same feeling.

When Michael finally noticed the time he sighed, knowing he should be responsible and go to bed. The two of you said your goodnights, a kissy face emoji attached to yours that made him blush before he turned over.

On the other side of town, you were doing the same, quite content with how your day had ended. Despite the horrid start, you were very happy to have met Michael, and your stomach flipped whenever you thought of the date he had promised to take you on. No other person had ever made you feel that way, so you cherished it, knowing Michael was going to be the sweet boy you’d keep forever.

Maybe this was the start of something that would last forever.

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #michael clifford #michael clifford au #5sos au #business!sos #record store!michael

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tjkiahgb · 5 years

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Episode Recap: 3.10, “The Quacks”

The episode picks up not long after the last episode ended, with Buffy asking her friends just what in the hell that Secret Society scheme was all about.

Her friends, who were super excited to help Walker out last week, waste no time throwing him under the bus now.

Jonah didn’t like the Secret Society stuff.

Cyrus didn’t like the robes.

Andi thinks it was kind of a sick way to ask someone to a dance.

Walker watch out for the bus oh my god he has airpods in he can’t hear us! oh my god!

Buffy reels off a list of the things she didn’t like about what happened: no to surprises, no to being put on the spot, and no to predictability. The candles were cool though.

Andi asks if Buffy still likes Walker and she gives a resounding ehh. Buffy explains that Walker made her shoes like how he made Andi shoes once, a long time ago. Andi thinks that is so wrong. Buffy says it’s his “signature move.” Andi and Buffy imagine Walker’s given shoes to every girl in town.

Am I going crazy here? He’s an artist? He makes artsy gifts for people? This would be like getting mad at Andi for making you a craft gift. It’s what she does! It’s not like Walker’s going around giving everyone cheap store-bought gifts like horrible little gnomes or neon green shoelaces. As long as he didn’t copy the exact mural he made with Andi that one time, what’s the problem? It’s a homemade gift. He had to spend time working on it. It’s still really nice. By this standard, would he have also not been allowed to make a drawing of Buffy as a gift? He’s already done that for Andi so that’s off the table. Find a new way to be creative, Walker. Make a necklace out of discarded soda can tabs or make a headband out of an old belt or something. I know art is your thing, but, sorry, you’ve played that card. It’s over now. Move on.

By the way, Andi and Buffy assume, with zero evidence, that Walker is going around town giving shoes to every girl like an unfixed cobbler in heat. Why?

They also assume all those girls would wear those shoes he gave them as gifts to public places like the school dance, despite not being in a relationship with him. I do feel like most people wouldn’t wear something an ex gave them while currently being in a relationship with another person. That’s so thoughtless. Wear shoes Walker gave you as a romantic gift while hanging out around your current boyfriend? Who in the world would behave like that? That would be crazy. A monument to poor decision making. I simply can’t imagine.

Aaaaaanyway, Cyrus assumes that’s it then. Buffy’s breaking up with Walker. And Buffy’s like, yeah, we’re done. I’m ghosting him. Cyrus tells her that’s not good enough. Talk to him. Break up with him in person.

Feels like Cyrus could save himself a lot of energy by recording a voice memo on his phone that says “YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE!” and just playing it for his friends over and over again.

Buffy thinks Walker knows, but Jonah assures her he doesn’t because: “He’s a guy.”

The pinpoint accuracy of those three words rattles Buffy to her core.

At the dance studio, Cyrus... dances?

...has a seizure?

...gets attacked by a swarm of gnats?

...reenacts the Ides of March?

...is possessed by the spirit of an evil marionette?

I’m just not sure.

Amber shows up and asks if he’s rehearsing being electrocuted.

Ah. Damn. That’s a good one.

Cyrus tells her he has to come up with an original dance for his choreography final and perform it. Wild that he’s already got a final exam. His dance class was like a month long. No wonder it seems like all he’s learned to do is flail his arms about. Amber volunteers to tutor him in the art of dance choreography.

Wait, does Amber know how to dance? I mean, I guess she did at the house party that one time. But can she really teach Cyrus to capture the raw, super strange energy of this performance?

I have my doubts.

Over at Bex’s, Bowie presents Andi and Bex with a surprise.

That’s right! A plank!

Andi wants to know who the Quinns are. Bowie thinks they all will be, after the marriage. Bex isn’t so sure. (Maybe hyphenate?) Bowie thinks it’s important, bonding them all together as a tribe, but Bex also thinks it’s important for everyone to choose their own identity. (Hyphenate?) Mack is part of who Bex is. For example, it’s on her bowling shirt. (Hyphenate. Stitch “-Quinn” right on to the end of that bad boy.)

Andi proposes they mash up their names but they realize that would make them the Quacks and abandon that idea so quickly they never even consider they could also become the Mann family, which is pretty sweet.

Back at the dance studio, Amber asks Cyrus to touch his toes. He can’t, but in fairness, he’s only been at this dance thing for like two weeks.

Amber tries to get him to do some moves but Cyrus says it’s too hard, so Amber hair-slaps some sense into him.

At the gym for the first Spikes game, Buffy watches the opposing team warmup and settles into some depressing fatalism.

Her teammate, who the end credits tell me was named Kaitlin, says the team is well-aware of that because Buffy’s been saying it all week. Kaitlin tries to get Buffy to say something that builds confidence in the team but Buffy’s not interested.

The team’s coach shows up.

Her name is Mrs. Deborah Mendenhall. She’s the guidance counselor. She’s also late to the game, knows nothing about basketball, has the gait and posture of an elderly woman, and is dressed like a flight attendant for some reason.

On the bright side, she brought orange slices.

So at least no one will get scurvy.

Kaitlin points out that the good news is they don’t have enough girls to even play. Buffy’s shocked no one else is coming and wants to know why. Kaitlin tells her it’s probably because Buffy’s spent the entire week telling everyone they were going to lose and be humiliated.

Look, say what you will about TJ as a team captain, but he only went after one player on his team. Buffy recruited this girls’ team, then spent several weeks alienating and insulting them and eventually got 2/3s of her team to quit before they even got to play their first game.

I hope she’s cleared her calendar for a ton of redemption arcs.

Buffy says the loss would have been really embarrassing, but now they’re going to have to forfeit, which she feels is way worse.

I disagree. You can forfeit with some dignity. Floundering around the court while the other team beats you down leaves barely any room for that.

It’s like this. Say you’re going to a party, but right before you get there, you get mud all over the back of your pants. Huge stain. Can’t get it out. Just go home, right? Forfeit the evening. You walk into that party and everyone’s going to think you had a horrible accident. You can desperately try to explain it’s mud, or you can try to own it in some weird way I can’t even imagine, but let’s be honest, all you’re going to get is a mean nickname and an unflattering reputation about town.

The lesson, kids, is if you have a chance to forfeit, forfeit.

Buffy decides, instead, she’s going to try calling the team.

Up in the stands, Andi asks Libby if she’s still planning on breaking up with Jonah. Libby is. She then points at Jonah and mimics him texting like a dope. Jonah, who is good at picking up subtle hints, wonders if these two are talking about him.

Buffy has no luck convincing anyone from the team to come get publicly humiliated. I say call TJ. Tell him to grab a wig and race down to the gym. Worth a shot.

Instead Buffy looks into the stands to try and find a replacement. She spots her artsy friend who’s shown almost zero athletic ability over the years...

...and thinks, yep, there’s the ticket.

So, Buffy drags Andi out of the bleachers and to the locker room to change as Jonah and Cyrus head up to sit next to Libby.

Cyrus greets Libby with sign language.

Oh, by the way, Cyrus also knows sign language now. Where did he find the time? I can barely commit to the 10 minute Duolingo Spanish lessons on my phone.

Jonah asks Cyrus to do some translating. He wants to know if Libby is mad at him. Libby wants him to learn sign language. Jonah apologizes through Cyrus, but Libby walks away.

Cyrus tells Jonah texting Libby used to be an okay way to communicate, but now the two have been going out for a while. Perfect opportunity for him to pull out his phone and play the “YOU HAVE TO COMMUNICATE!” message.

Also, a while? It’s not been like, a couple weeks? Cyrus’s dance class is over already, Buffy’s team is just now having their first game of the season, Jonah and Libby have been dating two years and I’ve lost complete understanding of the timeline again.

Jonah says he hasn’t learned because he’s afraid he’ll be bad at it.

Cyrus says it’ll be enough if he’s making the effort, but I just want to put this back on the table: forfeit the relationship. Take your mud-stained pants and go home.

At Bex’s, Bex approaches Bowie to do some compatibility testing of their relationship by asking some big questions and jotting down some answers to compare.

Bowie asks her about calzones. I’ll take this one, Bex. It’s pizza with excess bread. It’s hard to get a good cook on the stuffing. The toppings are rarely dispersed in a satisfying way. Not worth it.

Oh? Guess Bex and I are more compatible than I thought.

Bex wants to play seriously though, so they jump in. Bex asks if Bowie would ever want to have more kids, to which Bowie is like...

I mean, why not? If it all goes wrong, Celia’s still around, right?

Buffy brings her newest basketball recruit out to the gym so the game can finally begin. Things don’t start so hot.

Andi gets a pass and then takes off running with the ball like a halfback on a football team.

She forgot about dribbling. Bad sign. Dribbling is probably the second rule almost all people know about basketball behind knowing that the ball has to go into the basket to score points. God, I hope she remembers that at least.

Things don’t get much better from there. The public humiliation of the basketball team happens just as it was foretold.

Mrs. Mendenhall, meanwhile, spends time handing out snacks to the opposing team.

I’d normally be mad about this but she clearly has too many oranges. There’s only five people on Buffy’s team. Might as well not let them go to waste.

Andi gets the ball again and immediately turns it over.

Buffy was worried about being embarrassed, but honestly, Andi’s taking the brunt of it here. Maybe stop giving her the ball? Save her from herself.

Buffy mercifully calls a timeout to think things over.

She pulls the team into a huddle. They think she’s going to chew them out, but instead, she thanks them for showing up. She apologizes for being a bad captain and says she’s realized losing is not the worst thing ever. It’s great that those who showed up are there and that they’re in the game.

Or, basically, isn’t it nice to just be alive and doing stuff? Which is a decent message for life but a really low bar to hurdle for team sports. Congrats to us all on not dying.

They start playing again with a newfound, joyous outlook. I’m glad they’re happy with this, but their play is hurting me physically.

Kaitlin catches a pass and goes up for a lay-up from about a foot away from the basket and nearly misses not just the hoop, but the entire backboard.

It thuds off the side of the backboard and makes a noise that’s like nails on a chalkboard to me. This should be a wake up call for Kaitlin to get her vision checked. Or some kind of medical checkup. Something’s wrong.

Andi gets a pass, then, for some reason, spins, runs the wrong way, and hucks a wild shot up from half-court at the wrong basket.

It goes in as the game ends. Everyone celebrates for different reasons. I’m light headed.

Are we really sure that wasn’t worse than just leaving early? Are we really going with the lesson here of: “Kids, it doesn’t matter how terrible you do, as long as you do.” I hope no one growing up to be a doctor or pilot feels that way. Please, do those jobs well or don’t do them at all. No one’s gonna cheer you if you put the wrong organ inside your surgery patient or get lost and crash land into the ocean.

At Bex’s, Bex and Bowie review their answers and find themselves to be really compatible.

I think the biggest sign of their compatibility was that neither of them thought to ask the other any of these big, important life questions before agreeing to get married.

Lack of forethought and an improvisational approach to life problems suits them well, I guess.

Jonah meets Libby outside the school. He asks her to teach him sign language in sign language.

If he really wants to learn, he should hunt down the 5th grade teacher who made everyone else so fluent.

Libby agrees to. She tells Jonah she likes him.

Jonah says he likes her, 2. They seem to have reached a good level of understanding in their relationship. Amazing what COMMUNICATION! can do.

At Cyrus’s dance class, Cyrus prepares to deliver his final. Amber psyches him up, he heads out onto the floor, and...

Guys. It’s no good.

I mean, he’s doing this march walk thing.

And this scuba move like he’s dancing at a party from some 1960s beach movie.

And the robot.

His big finale is the sprinkler, of all things...

...followed by the Glee throw-your-fist-up-and-look-to-the-sky move.

I just don’t see how Cyrus passes this.

How do you watch that as a dance teacher and not go, “That was the laziest collection of basic, stock dance moves I’ve ever seen. Did you learn nothing? Did you even practice?”

Is this all another lesson about just showing up and doing a terrible job and being happy with that? Again, it’s good to have a positive attitude, but that’s not going to save your GPA.

At Bex’s, Bowie sits Andi and Bex down for a new surprise.

That’s right. Another plank!

Bowie probably should’ve learned to get everyone on board with his decision first before committing to a plank. That “The Quinns” plank is basically expensive firewood at this point.

But Bowie wins Andi and Bex over with this one.

And the news that he intends to take the Mack last name. It really was a foregone conclusion. Doesn’t he know what show he’s on? It’s called Andi Mack, not Andi Quinn. There’s already all tons of merchandise. What are you going to do, render that stuff worthless? Pfft. Good luck going up against the Disney Corporation’s profits, bud.

Bex wants to know if he’s sure he wants to be a Mack, and deal with all of the things that come with being a Mack. But Bowie’s in.

So, the Quinn names dies with Cookie. Long live the Quinns.

At school, Buffy takes out her phone and makes a call. The person on the other end of the line picks up. Buffy’s like, hey, last time I saw you, I don’t think I handled things very well and can we please meet up to talk?

And who’s on the other end of the call?

This guy!

Oh, who is this guy again? God, it’s on the tip of my tongue. It was a weird name. The kind of name they stopped giving babies in the 1950s.

I wanna say Harry? Ronny? Ralph? Was it Ralph? I feel like there was a Y in there.

Let’s just call him Not Walker for now until I can dig through the Andi Mack wiki for answers.

#Andi Mack #Buffy Driscoll #Jonah Beck #Cyrus Goodman #Amber #Bex Mack #Bowie Quinn #Libby #Marty #Kaitlin #Mrs. Mendenhall #Andi #episode recaps

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phantomphangphucker · 5 years

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My Little Box Of Secrets - Phanniemay day 2 - Secrets

“What you doing tonight sweetie?”

“Oh just playing Doom with Tuck and Sam”

“I’m glad you kids manage to have such normal lives, in such a ghost infested town”

I only smile at mom as I head up to my room, I’d really rather lie to her as little as possible.

Kneeling on the floor, I can’t help but chuckle as I phase out my, not so small anymore, collection box, “let’s take a list of inventory”.

* Basically mummified steak - Tuck would probably be pissed that I didn’t eat this but I’m definitely not now.

* A corsage petal - I doubt I’m ever going to be giving one of these to a dragon ever again.

* Purple back gorilla fur - probably illegal to have, but my very existence is illegal so...

* The hat from that stupid expensive cool guy outfit - this thing is sill hideous.

* Shard of a mirror - the last thing I need is someone putting that damn thing back together.

* A wishing well coin - I mean, it’s not technically stealing.

* Vlads’ prized football - just to be a dick to him really, though he probably knows I’m the one who took it.

* A gift ribbon - that stupid thing basically got me thrown in jail, so clearly it’s not as innocent as it looks.

* A burnt domino - my sister was almost fried by dominos, that would honestly be a dumb way to die. I’d rather go by something epic, and I thing getting electrocuted by an entire dimension to half-death counts as epic.

* Cujo’s collar - I really have no clue how this hasn’t disintegrated. My gloves do if they come off, so?

* A broken, burnt guitar pick - pretty sure lots of people have one but none of them remember the singer, suck on that Ember.

* Picture of Mr. Lancer in a dress - did I notice? Yes. Is it weird? Yes. But I’m the definition of weird so I wasn’t gonna call him on it.

* Petrified pumkin cube - definitely gross but effectively useful to scare folks with. Sure, they’re mostly disgusted but still.

* Tuck’s goth phase collar - I like to wear it sometimes just to bug him.

* The mayors tie - hey, if the town’s going to accuse me of assaulting the mayor, I doubt they’d be focused on his missing tie.

* A broken bit of a mini portal maker - can’t have Johnny trying to rebuild the thing.

* The entirety of Vlads’ gift basket - nope, never opening that.

* A burnt, cut and stained empty flour sack - is it cheesy that playing pretend parent is what got me to start liking her?

* Tiger fur - maybe illegal? Don’t really know. I’d think it’s more illegal to have one as a pet and use it to hunt ghosts though.

* Gold crown - everyone thinks I stole it, so might as well keep it. I’ll get in more shit for returning it anyway.

* Replica of DP symbol patch - not sure why she even made multiples. Maybe I should copyright it? Stick it on merch or something.

* Scratch and sniff of Foley by Tucker Foley - still smells awful, no clue how he even got the resources to make this shit. Highly doubt Sam helped.

* Pirate hat feather - it’s fluffy. Too bad the sword disintegrated.

* Ring of rage - no way in hell I was letting Vlad keep that. Still trying to find the damn crown though.

* A tattered bed sheet - that was beyond embarrassing and I can’t help but cringe at any childhood photos where I wear a bedsheet as a cape now.

* Some teddy bear stuffing - had to make room for the fart box after all.

* A chunk of a time medallion - from the one Dan fused inside my chest. It’s a good reminder of what I must never be.

* A burnt, stained and torn up copy of The Fright Before Christmas 2 - because I like to hit it.

* The power cell to the Fenton super suit - funny enough, just the cell alone super charges me. Who knows when that’ll come in useful.

* Space helmet - guess who did get to become an astronaut? This halfa ass did. Probably completely illegal though.

* Replica black T-shirt with DP symbol - I mean, it did look good, even if I didn’t want to being stuck in that with Dash.

* Sams’ tiara - I wasn’t about to let her throw it out. Wore it once just to mock Aragon, so worth it.

* Gladiator shoulder pad - still looks pretty cool honestly.

* Picture of Halfa Jack - I couldn’t resist when ClockWork turned a blind eye. He probably just wanted to piss off the Observants, which I’m down for.

* Orange Danny jello - was it safe to take a bit of jello me? Probably not. But it was the weirdest state my bodies ever been in so...

* Gregor’s jacket - black and white is my colour dude, stick to the shitty red letterman. And yes, I, as Phantom, did cosplay the guy for Halloween once. Just to piss off the GIW.

* Vial of clone goo - disturbing? Definitely. But if Dani ever has some issues, it could be useful.

* The other “mayors” tie - because fuck you Vlad, might as well make this tradition. I pretty much have to steal the next mayors tie now, so long as Vlad doesn’t keep buying the votes.

* Sealed bloodblossom leaf - am I stupid for keeping this? Absolutely. But I’m the kind of dumb ass that will forget what those stupid plants look like.

* Ghost sea monster scale - weirdly sharp and again with the not dissolving thing.

* Vlad head eyeball - damaging the thing was the only way to get dad to stop wearing the thing.

* Fenton wig - stupidly useful, almost concerningly so.

* My first ice crystal - this is probably why there’s never any bugs in here. Keeps everything nice and cold.

* Milkshake glass with Hobsin’s signature - I put that man through Hell, but asking for this was probably weirder to him than my tastebuds.

* Box Ghosts’ Not Wanted poster - it really is just too funny not to have.

* Chunk of Nocturn’s sleep helmet - one thing I wanted to blow up but yet blew up on accident. Even my sleep is destructive.

* A vial of oatmeal - it may be horrendously expired but it was just too funny to not keep.

* A freaking apology letter from Red to Phantom - I’m still completely weirded out by this honestly. I really do need the reminder that it’s actually real.

Sealing the box back up, before I head out for a patrol. It sure says something that every episode of my life is just another secret. And amongst all the pennies for my ponderings, are souvenirs for my secrets.

End.

#phanniemay #phanniemay19 #danny phantom #phandom #fanfic #secrets #danny fenton #maddie fenton #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #fuck PP its not canon #phanphic #short

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clamjumper5-blog · 5 years

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A Healthy Hedonist’s Guide to Paris: Gluten-Free Eats + Sights in the City of Love

Paris has been a gluten-free beacon of love and carbs for us over the last two years.

I’m usually not that into Hallmark holidays, but last year, for whatever reason, when Charlie told me he’d be traveling on Valentine’s Day, I got a little diva-like pit in my stomach.

I pictured myself sitting alone watching Sandra Bullock reruns with a 3-course meal of matcha truffles, modestly-priced steak, and salted caramel pudding. Then I immediately moved on to a superior alternative that made me a lot less sad: having dinner with my OG Valentine, my dad.

I don’t know why I cared so much about doing something special last year, when on most other Valentine’s Days my preference is to avoid prefix menus like the plague and do nothing at all. But I’m sure it had something to do with all the book-related work that left me craving an evening of being coddled and pampered. Other sugar daddy to the rescue!

The biggest reason I can’t give Charlie a hard time is because for my birthday this year, he already showered me with the most romantic gift a girl could ask for: a long weekend trip to Paris. Had he pulled that super Romeo move on me on February 14th, I probably would have rolled my eyes and barfed a little in my mouth (diva!). But in November it was the perfect gift. And come December, when we finally woke up on the tarmac of Charles de Gaulle airport, it was the beginning of the most make-out and food-filled trip I’ve taken in adult life.

(see?)

Paris is the city of love, yes. But for me it’s always held memories of a different type of romance. Back when I was three years old, my OG Valentine (along with my mom) moved our small nuclear family across the Atlantic for a few years. We lived a stone’s throw from Les Invalides on the Right Bank, which I used to call the Emerald City because of its gold dome and sprawling Oz-like greenery.

So my favorite moments of our trip were not the pounds of steak frites or kisses shared under the Eiffel Tower, it was getting to share all those childhood fragments with Charlie as we covered the city on foot from end to end, having him humor me as we played the game my mother and I always used to play of guessing what color the seats would be at the following metro stop, and humoring me even further when I wanted to take us another mile out of the way to relive what a chocolate eclair tasted like in gluten-free form.

Speaking of being gluten-free in Paris, it’s a lot easier than it used to be. I’ve included some of the recommendations below, but just know that like in the States, not every loaf of GF bread is created equal. Take a detour to Chambelland early in your trip and buy a loaf and carry it in your purse for the rest of your stay. I tried the ones at Eric Kayser, No Glu and Helmet Newcake and they weren’t as good. This is key, because you’re going to need something to soak up all that restaurant butter.

If that’s recommendation 1.a. for the GF folks. 1.b. for the rest of you is to balance your trip with a mix of old and new. You’ll see in the itinerary I laid out below that I didn’t give you a back-to-back bistro highlight reel. There’s some incredibly inventive cuisine happening in Paris right now that is worth taking a break from cassoulet and soupe l’oignon for. Plus, if you eat on the healthier end at home, you will burn out from this particular French brand of hedonism very quickly. Pace yourself, folks.

My last recommendation is to walk as much as you can. It’s truly the best way to see the city. We managed to log 10 miles a day! Pack your shoes accordingly, and bring a second pair, since you will inevitably get blistered from your first. We loved the little AirBNB we stayed in on the 5th floor of a immeuble in the 9th, even if it meant many more blisters walking up all those stairs!

This time around, it was definitely a sobering experience for us bourgeois lovers of Parisian oat milk to experience the Gilet Jaunes lighting the city on fire literally and figuratively with their anger. You can see some of the scenes below, juxtaposed of course with my favorite 3 euro macarons. Needless to say, I couldn’t feel more grateful for the life I was born into that allows me to see the world, and savor every morsel.

Just being able to reminisce about this trip feels like a gift. And let me just say for all my Galentine’s: you don’t need a date to have the most glorious time in Paris. My last two trips 7 years ago and in college were both solo, and I had an equally magical weekend reading, wandering and day drinking in cafes.

Read on for my favorite gluten-free finds and ways to spend a long weekend in the city of luuuuurve.

From one healthy, Francophile hedonist, to another,

Xoxo Phoebe

THE BEST PARIS FOOD DESTINATIONS (& WHAT TO EAT IF YOU’RE GLUTEN-FREE)

Afternoon

*Breizh Cafe, The Marais.

This was our first food stop in Paris, after fighting our jetlag to make it through two floors of the Pompidou Center on an empty stomach. Needless to say, I was extremely hangry by the time we arrived at this little gem in the Marais, and almost had a meltdown when we were told there was no table available. Luckily, the maître d’ took pity on us silly Americans and found us two seats next door at the small to-go shop. We actually got the better experience, I think. As we waited for our gluten-free buckwheat crepes to arrive, we sipped a carafe of their in-house hard cider and drooled over all the delicate tins of sardines, cases of smoked meats, rich butters and countless products made from the restaurant’s signature buckwheat. Just make sure to read the back of the packages, as many of the pastas and crisps also include wheat flour. As for my order, I went with the special, which included cured duck, mushrooms and comte. But you can’t go wrong with the complet.

L’As du Falafel, The Marais.

Back when I could eat gluten, this was a very necessary stop when visiting the old Jewish quarter of the Marais. The streets are worth visiting anyway, as the trendy boutiques suddenly tapper off into a jam-packed block of Judaica. The falafel is the best in the city, but they also have schwarma for the GF folk.

Miznon, The Marais

Down the street from all the falafel shops in the Jewish corner, is this Israeli outpost with creative spins on classic sandwiches. The lamb pita is excellent, but they will also do any of their sandwiches as a plate for the GF folk. I got the beef bourgingnon, which is not something I would think to try at an Israeli restaurant, but their take on it was incredibly light and flavorful, especially with a dousing of green sauce on top. The highlight for healthy-minded folks is the whole charred cauliflower, which emerges still attached to its leaves and roots. New Yorkers: you can also find a stand in Chelsea Market, but it’s not the same as the original.

Chambelland, 10th.

This gluten-free bakery was the only place I found that did French bread the right way. It had the same crispy exterior and tangy sourdough flavor that characterizes the best of the table baskets. Get a loaf to-go, or simply enjoy a tuna sandwich or square of focaccia (tomato-olive is amazing) as a mid-afternoon snack. Also, get a bag of the mini financiers.

Helmut Newcake, 1st.

In addition to being the best-named patisserie in all the land, Helmut Newcake has the type of highfalutin pastries that make you think you’re staring at a jewelry case—and they’re all gluten-free! It was such a treat to get to have a chocolate eclair after all these years. The chocolate chip cookie is also insanely buttery and decadent.

Claus, 1st.

Breakfast isn’t as much of a “thing” in France as it is in the states. Usually, people just grab a croissant and cafe on the go. One morning when we were craving eggs, we ended up at this cute spot near our hotel. Honestly, the breakfast was pretty underwhelming. But it’s worth a visit for the gluten-free green tea financiers, which were the most delicious treat of the trip. Had we done it over, I would have saved my breakfast for when we visited Canal St. Martin (see below).

Holybelly, Canal St. Martin.

We didn’t manage to squeeze in some eggs or black rice porridge from Holybelly, but walked around the cool and quaint surrounding area of Canal St. Martin, where there are a bunch of up-and-coming juice bars (Bob’s) and gluten-free cafes (Ten Belles) popping up. This is definitely the neighborhood to go to if you want a break from butter. And I loved capturing the heart-shaped lock picture above.

Hotel L’Amour, 10th.

This hotel restaurant has a quaint fashionable interior with a beautiful garden to sit outside in warmer months. It’s an excellent spot for brunch, with a whole array of vegetarian options. The vegan butternut squash soup was delicious, as was the poulet roti and plate of scrambled eggs.

Ellsworth, 1st.

This brunch spot has all the usual Southern fixtures—French toast, fried chicken, duck hash—but they’re prepared in a distinctly French way. The hash was a gluten-free favorite of mine, and I also loved the beet salad with homemade light-as-air Greek yogurt.

Au Petit Tonneau, 7th.

We wandered into this little neighborhood gem during our day of exploring the right bank, as we made our way from Musee D’Orsay to go make-out under the Eiffel tower. It was everything we wanted in a bistrot: small tables, chalkboard menus, old ladies ordering whole bottles of wine at 2pm, and husband and wife waiters, who took breaks in between busing our tables to enjoy a bite of lunch with their family at the back table. The most notable dish here is the veal stew, which is served over cardamom scented rice. Unfortunately, it’s thickened with flour (hey-ho France), but I snuck a small taste of the sauce and it was mind-blowing. Equally good (and gluten-free): the escargot, salad Paysenne with thick lardons, and the sautéed scallops.

Le Comptoir de la Mer, 6th

The two small bars next to one another, one dedicated to seafood, the other to meats, are a fun concept based on basque-style pintxos, where you order small plate after small plate, standing up, before heading to the next joint and doing the same. I love that they serve butter in a giant ball on the counter that you can scrape off to your heart’s content.

Pierre Herme, 6th

Perhaps the most famous macaron purveyor in Paris, Pierre lives up to all the hype. The cookies are light and tender, while the filling isn’t too sweet. More importantly, they offer a variety of surprising and creative combinations. My favorite was the half raspberry, half pistachio, and the pomegranate and cream.

NoGlu, 6th

As I mentioned above, I was not overly blown away by the bread at this gluten-free cafe. Still, it’s a nice place to grab a sandwich, and if you’re craving a croque monsieur, theirs certainly hits the spot. I’ve also heard good things about their quiche and madeleine’s, but generally prefer chambelland and helmet newcake for GF goodies.

Evening

Le Grand Bain, 9th

The menu changes daily at this veg-centric small plates joint. The chef is young and inventive, but also can turn out French classics like moules with aioli that rival the best bistros in town. They were willing to adapt almost the whole menu to be gluten-free and also had plenty of vegan options. Besides the moules, my favorite dish was the broccoletti with caviar. Charlie could not resist the fois gras stuffed quail.

Balagan, 1st

We went for lunch at this upscale Israeli restaurant near The Louvre, but it’s chic design and cool lounge in back would make it even better as a nighttime destination. The kale salad with turmeric aioli and Mediterranean take on steak frites (both GF!) were fabulous. The waitstaff was also very knowledgable about my allergy.

Le Villaret, 10th

Right down the street from Chambelland, is this classic bistrot that serves up impeccably cooked steak and other French fare. It’s been renovated to be slightly more modern on the interior, but still feels homey and cozy. It’s a great option for a casual, yet refined meal that’s unfussy and worth the price tag.

Bistrot Paul Bert, 11th.

Though a bigger operation than Tonneau, it doesn’t get more classic than this French institution. It’s a little off the beaten path, but worth a visit for a traditional meal of all the things you came to France for: sole meuniere, steak frites and soufflés. Gluten-free folk are good to go on the steak and fries and simple butter-soaked scallops in their shell, but sadly have to sit out dessert. My favorite part of our meal is that they decanted our wine into a giant wine glass, which made for some wonderful photo opps. I’m pretty sure they stuck us in the front room with all the other English speakers for this very reason.

Le Clown Bar, 10th.

This was both Charlie and my favorite meal in Paris. I was skeptical at first, as I’m not one to opt for trends or novelty over the classics (in Paris, no less). But this meal was truly the most inventive and delicious one I’ve had in any city in recent memory. Much to my surprise, the highlight of the night—in addition to the whole pigeon that arrived talons-on, and still smoking on a plate—was the bowl of brains. As you can see above, they did very little to distract or disguise the main ingredient, which I suppose is what good French cooking is all about. The texture was similar to tofu, and combined with a delicate dashi broth, each spoonful melted in your mouth. It’s best to get a reservation in advance, but there’s a great little hipster cocktail bar around the corner called Bespoke if you have to wait.

Le Relais de Entrecote, 6th

An institution with locations in New York and London, this steak and frites chain never disappoints. And somehow, there’s nothing like the real thing in Paris. It’s also a perfect venue for celiacs, since the famous secret sauce is gluten-free and there’s nothing else on the menu but salad, steak and fries, so the fryer is also fair game. Save room for dessert, as their sundaes are legendary!

Le Servan, 12th.

I loved the neighborhood vibe of this place, which made me feel like we were back in Brooklyn. The food was simple, elegant and if I’m being honest, slightly underwhelming. We ended up here because of this Eater list, which said that the clams were one of the best dishes in Paris. Unfortunately, said clams had soy sauce in them (wah wah). Add it to your list if you want to check out a new neighborhood that’s more residential and bohemian. The one dish that really stood out and was worth returning for was the scallop with butterscotch. The menu changes daily, though, so perhaps we just ordered wrong.

Cocktail Hour

Le Mary Celeste, The Marais

If you’re looking for a great spot to grab oysters or deviled eggs before or after dinner, this divey spot in the Marais is it. Compared to most cocktail bars in Paris, this one is a nice mix of tourists and locals.

Le Syndicat, 9th

Another small cocktail bar with creative drinks, including one with kombucha and cucumber that I enjoyed.

The Hemingway Bar, 1st

If you like 30 euro cocktails in a lavish setting, nothing gets more classic than this hideaway in the back of The Ritz. Go early and put your name down. Be prepared to take out a second mortgage to cover your martini.

Le Meurice, 1st

Slightly easier to get into than Hemingway, and equally expensive drinks in ornate surroundings. Charlie swears by a lunch time burger here as well.

ITINERARY: AN IDEAL LONG WEEKEND IN PARIS

If you have an extra day, the Louvre is an obvious must. It’s so ginormous though that we chose to cross many of the smaller museums off our list and spend more time walking between neighborhoods. Another favorite that we didn’t fit into this itinerary is Sacre Coeur, which has an unparalleled view of the city at sunset and is a fun neighborhood to grab a pre-dinner glass of wine. Definitely go if you have one more night. Also, it should be noted that we went to Paris in December. If it’s warm out, a meat and cheese picnic in the Tuileries or Jardin du Luxembourg is also a must. But the gardens around the Louis Vuitton Foundation are also beautiful for a picnic or romp.

Friday, the Marais + Left Bank >>Start the day at the Pompidou center and explore the contemporary and modern collections >>Spend the afternoon exploring the Marais neighborhood; stop into Merci for home goods and decor, and wander the shops and boutiques. >>Have an early lunch of gluten-free buckwheat crepes at Breizh, along wtih a cup of one of their hard ciders (you’re in Europe, after all!). >> Pop into Musee National Picasso >> Grab a mid-afternoon snack at L’As du Fallafel or Miznon >> GF folks should make a detour to the 10th to grab a midafternoon snack at Chambelland, along with a loaf of gluten-free bread for the rest of the trip >>Head to dinner at Bistrot Paul Bert or Le Villaret for an authentic Parisian experience with all the typical fixings. You’ll be too buttered out by day 3 to handle this.

Saturday, the Right Bank >>Start the day at Musee D’Orsay to take in the vast impressionist collection and early work of Manet and Van Gogh. >>Wander through Napoleon’s old stomping grounds, Les Invalides (with optional detour to either the Musee De L’Armee or the Rodin Museum around the corner) >>Stop for lunch at Au Petit Tonneau for a classic red gingham tablecloth meal of escargot, salad Paysenne and veal stew. >>Continue walking off your meal to the Eiffel Tower for your requisite photo opp. >> Either pop in for more contemporary art at Palais de Tokyo, or metro back to the St. Germain-des-Pres area and enjoy a cafe at a one of the old literary haunts – Les Deux Maggot or Cafe de Flore (touristy, but fun!).

>> Check out Musee de L’Arme for French firearms and battle garb or to say hey to Napoleon in his tomb >> You can also make a pit stop at Bon Marche for some foodie keepsakes >> Take a break from all the butter with some nouveau French cuisine at Le Clown Bar or Le Grand Bain. Get past the ick factor and order the brains—it’s a must. >>Have a nightcap at the Hemingway bar at the Ritz.

Sunday, Further Afield >>Start the day with a Franco-American brunch at Hotel L’Amour or Ellsworth (make a reservation in advance), or if you’re feeling overwhelmed by 48 hours of French food, a healthy bite at Holybelly, where you can also stroll by the water in Canal St. Martin. >>Venture further afield to check out the new Louis Vuitton foundation near jardin d’acclimatation, i.e. the coolest kid’s park that ever was. You can also swap this for a day at the Louvre. >>Enjoy a mid-day cafe and pastry at Helmut Newcakes, which has the best GF eclairs in Paris! >> Head home to wherever you came from, carrying all the shoes and baguettes you can fit in your carry-on.

READER RECS

I got a lot of recommendations from readers on gluten-free and healthy restaurants in Paris. Especially in the Marais and the 9th, there are a ton of Brooklyn-esque smoothie and avocado toast spots cropping up. I didn’t find many of them to be worth it, including Wild & The Moon, which is now a chain. Their GF scone and acai bowl were sub-par, if I’m being honest. The produce in France is better across the board, and I’d personally, much rather enjoy veggies in the context of butter, cooked simply and traditionally, doing what Paris does best, than another culture’s attempt at avocado toast. That said, I’m including the full list below in case you want to try any of them, along with some more restaurants that I’ve been dying to try but haven’t been able to get to!

Gluten-free restaurants and healthy cafes:

Sitron (GF bakery) Echo Deli Cafe Woodies Le Coulauncourt Maisie Cafe The Broken Arm Republique of Coffee Cuppa Cafe BigLove (GF pizza) Cafe Berry Cafe Mareva Cafe Mericourt (shakshouka) Jay and Joy (vegan cheeses!)

Nouveau French restaurants and wine bars:

Vivant CAM Brutos Frenchie Clamato

***

Have any of you recently been to Paris? Any new or old haunts or must-see’s that I should add to my list for next time? I’m dying to go back! Let me know in the comments section

Source: https://feedmephoebe.com/healthy-hedonists-guide-paris-gluten-free-long-weekend-city-love/

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